


A Song for the Spark

by ghost_writer88



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Christmas, Christmas with a side of Gore, I am a horrible person for having given in to this bunny, Implied Death, Last Requests, M/M, Plot bunnies can be very evil, Singing, The Matrix - Freeform, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:59:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghost_writer88/pseuds/ghost_writer88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl is captured three days before Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot to post this here on the proper day, so ya'll get it now.

Drip…

Drip…

The brig of the Nemesis was silent except for that single sound.

Drip…

Drip…

In the last cell of nearly empty brig, strapped to a table lay a single mech. Or what was left of him. The mech’s outer armor had been shredded by a plasma whip and the torture device had bitten so deep it left wide gouges in the once pristine protoform. The proud doorwings and regal chevron had been reduced to skeletal protrusions by an energon dagger, and the mech’s optics had been burned through with a strong acid. Every strut in his fingers, arms, and legs had been shattered, leaving him completely immobilized, but throughout the excruciating interrogation never once had the mech made even a single sound. His torturer had left him in order to get some recharge and had promised the ruined doorwinger that the next session would involve his interface cables and spark.

After the brig door shut the Praxian finally uttered a short sound, but it was not a cry of pain. It was a name, “Jazz, I’m sorry.”

It was three days until Christmas and Prowl feared that this time he would not live to see it. This thought filled him with a deep sadness, for it was to be his and Jazz’s first Christmas together as bondmates and he had gone to great lengths to plan a romantic evening for the two of them. It was to culminate in the revelation of an interesting secret that Prowl had kept from the Polyhexian.

Now, however, all that planning would go to waste.

Prowl temporarily turned on his self-diagnostic to see how long he had left. The results were discouraging. According to his read-outs he had four joor until he leaked out and deactivated from energon deprivation to his spark. It would be a slow, painful cessation and he mourned for the loss that Jazz would feel when their sparkbond broke. The only bright spot in this dark analysis was that the interrogator would not be able to rape him or desecrate his spark. Unless the ‘Cons sent a medic to repair him, he would be deactivated before morning.

Acknowledging all of this, Prowl decided to indulge in one last luxury before his spark guttered. His sparkbond. Prowl had kept it closed off to prevent his lover from feeling his pain and being incapacitated by it. However, the Praxian opened it now so that he could say goodbye to the one mech who had brought so much joy to his functioning.

::Jazz…::

::Prowl! Luv, hold on we’re comin’ fo’ ya.::

::It’s too late Jazz, I am going to gutter from energon loss in four joor unless I receive immediate medical attention and a transfusion. I know by our bond that you are not even within the area, so to hope for rescue is futile at this point.::

::No! Ah c’n make it! Ah c’n get ya out ah there!::

::No Jazz you cannot, my battlecomputer predicts a less than 0.5% chance that you will even arrive at my location before the fourth joor is up.::

Prowl could feel the rebellious determination coming from the saboteur’s side of the bond, but Jazz said nothing.

::Jazz, I just want to say I love you with my whole spark and I thank you for being the light of my life. Your stubborn illogic, your persistent attempts to make me laugh, and the depths of your love have made me the happiest, luckiest mech in the universe. My functioning was made worthwhile just by meeting you.::

A nearly overwhelming wave of joy and sorrow washed over the bond to cascade through the Praxian’s core.

::Ah love ya too Prowler.:: came the quiet, resigned reply. ::Do meh a favah tho’?::

::Anything for you Jazz.::

::Ya hold on til tha last moment n’ don’ go down wit’out ah fight. ‘N keep tha bond open,… Ah at least wanna see ya through ta tha end.::

::But Jazz, if I leave the bond completely open there will be nothing to shield you from the backlash! If I mute the bond…::

::Please Prowler, let meh have this one las’ thing.:: Jazz pleaded desperately.

Prowl sighed, but relented. ::Very well, but promise me that you won’t follow me to the matrix.::

::No! Where ya go Ah go, n’ Ah’m comin’ wit’ ya, period, no buts.::

::Jazz, I need you to stay. The Autobots will need your guidance after I am gone and I am trusting you to see this war to its end. I need you to make sure the Decepticons don’t win, otherwise more innocent mechs will be subjected to the torture I have just endured.::

Jazz said nothing for a long time and Prowl could feel the roiling, tumultuous thoughts and emotions that warred in Jazz’s processors. Finally, the saboteur replied, albeit very reluctantly. ::Alright, but onleh fo’ ya, n’ when tha pit-fragged war is ova’ Ah’m comin’ fo’ ya, whether ya like it or not.::

Prowl sent his amusement over the link as well as his gratitude, and their conversation drifted to more pleasant topics.

At the end of the second joor Prowl decided that he did not want to leave without letting his beloved hear his gift, and hopefully it would sustain his saboteur through the painful orns that lay before him.

::Jazz, if you don’t mind, I’d like to give you your Christmas gift now.::

::Sure Prowler, what is it?::

The Praxian braced himself and poured all his love into their bond as he began to sing softly.

:: I'll be home for Christmas;   
You can plan on me.  
Please have snow and mis-tle-toe  
And presents on the tree.

Christmas eve will find me  
Where the love light gleams.  
I'll be home for Christmas   
If only in my dreams…::

Prowl sung on perfectly, his deep baritone making the notes rich and vibrant. Physically he could not even make a hoarse whisper, but the bond retained the depth of his voice. He could feel his beloved’s stunned elation and a small amount of arousal. As the Praxian finished his song he felt satisfied that his mate would always have this piece of him.

::Tha’ was beautiful Prowler… this may be selfish to ask since ya in so much pain,… but c’n ya keep singing? Ah want ta burn ya voice in mah memory so Ah’ll neva’ forget.::

::Anything for you my Love. My pain will be over soon enough and it would be my delight to sing to you.::

So Prowl sang to his bondmate. Ballads, pop songs, rock songs, more Christmas songs, and any others that the dying mech could recall. He was singing an old Praxian love song when his body shut down all his non-essential functions and faded his bond to conserve power at the three joor mark. Just before he lost his connection with Jazz, he heard the saboteur send one last message.

::Ah love ya Prowler. Don’ give up til tha last, ya promised. See ya on tha otha’ side.::

Prowl wished he could have sent his love back but the bond was too weak for more than simple emotions. He tried to push his adoration and undying affection over, but he had no way of knowing if it crossed over successfully.

He finally lost consciousness at three and a half joors as his body induced stasis in a last ditch attempt to preserve his spark. Prowl’s last thought was a prayer that his beloved would be spared from the majority of the pain during the severing.

And finally, the brig was silent.


	2. Chapter 2

Prowl’s spark felt light, floaty, uninhibited. It was a good feeling. One that was quickly tempered by the sorrow of leaving his beloved behind. He knew that if he was not feeling any pain then it meant he had deactivated, but his grief was mitigated by the thought that someday his love would rejoin him.

Resigned to his place in the Matrix he activated his optics, or whatever the afterfunctioning equivalent was, to get a look around. He was, after all, curious to see what the Cybertronian version of heaven looked like.

It was orange. Very orange. And it had strange cracks in the ceiling reminiscent of the Ark’s medbay. Most curious. Did the Matrix perhaps recreate the familiar to ease a spark’s passing?

A barely there snicker came from his left.

Prowl’s Matrix-given neck cables were very stiff, which made turning his helm a slow process. So, in faux slow motion the joyous sight of his beautiful Jazz was revealed, and he was laughing at him. But… if Jazz was here, then he was dead too, or was it another figment of the Matrix? Prowl hoped it was the latter and not that his bonded had crossed over. His lover had promised him.

His thoughts brought forth more laughter from the Porche who was now doubled over by his mirth. Before Prowl could even begin to fuss at his mate for prematurely joining him in the afterlife, the saboteur recovered and spoke. “Seriously Prowler? Ya really think tha Matrix looks like Hatchet’s Medbay?”

Prowl’s logic circuits went into overdrive trying to understand the illogic of still being functional. “But, I cannot be alive. The statistical possibility was close to nil!”

“Close is a gel-cube walk for saboteurs.” Jazz replied flippantly, then his visage turned serious. “We almos’ didn’ make it in time. Ratch’ said ya frame was onleh kliks from bein’ completeleh dry. He had ta give ya ah full infusion befo’ we could even think a gettin’ ya out o’ tha’ pit.”

Prowl could fully feel through the bond all of Jazz’s held back terror at the thought of losing the Praxian, his devastation at walking into that hole to the sight of his ravaged bondmate, the unyielding horror that he could have lost his mate had he been even one ‘Con scrap later, and his overwhelming anger at his lover’s torturer.

Over this morass of dark feelings lay bright relief that Prowl was safe and repaired, delight that his bonded was finally online again, and all-encompassing longing to feel Prowl’s love burn through him again.

::I love you Jazz, thank you for saving me even though I told you it was impossible.::

The dam of feelings broke and Jazz crumbled on top of Prowl in a sobbing heap.

::Oh Luv, Ah thought Ah wasn’ gonna make it. When Ah felt ya go silent Ah thought Ah would be retrievin’ an empteh frame. Ah have neva’ been so scared in all mah functionin’.::

Prowl embraced his beloved knowing full well what the chances had been of those fears becoming true. He poured his reassurance and love through to his other half and held the saboteur until his tears stopped flowing.

::Better now my Love?::

::Yes… Prowler?::

::Yes beloved.::

::Ya are neva’ eva’ allowed ta die or almos’ die on meh again, ‘kay?::

::Of course Jazz, I’ll just relay that message to Primus shall I?::

::Ah’m bein’ serious here Prowl.::

::I know my Love, but this is war, and if it is my time to go then no amount of my own protest will stop fate.::

Jazz took his lover’s face in his servo and stared at him with a most determined expression. ::Ya try aneh’way. Promise meh.::

Prowl looked into the stricken, yet stubborn, optics of his bonded and nodded. ::For you I will even defy Primus. You are all that keeps me in this functioning. I would have long ago removed myself in despair had you not come into my functioning when you did.::

Jazz embraced the Praxian tightly. “Then, Ah’m glad Ah met ya. Ah would have been so loneleh wit’out ya n’ neva’ known what Ah was missin’.”

For a long time they just held one another, basking in the feeling of the other safe and hale in their arms. Then Jazz drew back again. “Ya kno’, Ah neva’ got ta reply ta ya gift. ‘Specially since ya been out o’ commision fo’ a decacyle.”

Prowl looked up in shock, “I was in stasis for that long?!”

The saboteur nodded morosely. “Yeah, it took Ratch’ ah long time ta get all tha parts we needed ta fix ya, n’ even afta’ he wanted ta make sure ya frame accepted tha replacements properleh before he let ya up.”

The SIC looked down sadly. “I’m sorry I left you alone so long Jazz.”

“It’s alright, ya here now.” Jazz replied with a little of his more usual cheer. “Now, ya gonna sit there n’ let meh ser’nade ya in thanks for ya amazin’ Christmas gift.”

Prowl nodded and the Porsche began:  
 _There’s no-o-o Christmas without you_  
There's no-o-o Christmas without you  
No other gift makes me feel like you do  
There's no-o-o Christmas without you

Leave it to Jazz to find the most upbeat song he could to express himself, but Prowl did not mind, his lover would not be the same otherwise.

_I can buy every gift under the sun_  
But I never know bliss  
Like waking up to the love that you give  
Openin' up every gift that you got from the jewelry shop  
And it's amazing how the holidays give me  
A feeling just like we were little kids  
Playing Christmas morning with toys  
And we could fall in love  
Take my hand  
Walk into a winter wonderland 

_Fa-la-la-la-la_  
In love with you  
Fa-la-la-la-la  
I know it's true  
When the snow falls down  
I know you'll keep me warm  
And I'll fa-la-la-la into your arms 

Jazz moved closer to the med berth and sang softer.

_There's no-o-o Christmas without you_  
There's no-o-o Christmas without you  
No other gift makes me feel like you do  
There's no-o-o Christmas without you 

_I've been waiting all year-all year_  
I can't believe it's here-believe it’s here  
It's my favorite time  
When the lights are bright  
And I get to hold you near 

_Fa-la-la-la-la_  
In love with you  
Fa-la-la-la-la  
I know it's true  
When the snow falls down  
I know you'll keep me warm  
And I'll fa-la-la-la into your arms 

The two bonded mates smiled warmly at one another as the final chorus was sung, knowing in their sparks that their love for one another was preserved for at least one more year.

_There's no-o-o Christmas without you_  
There's no-o-o Christmas without you  
No other gift makes me feel like you do  
There's no-o-o Christmas without you 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so all the lyrics are supposed to be italicized, but after 20 minutes of fighting with AOO formatting garbage I have given up on it. Please pretend they were actually italicized.


End file.
